Disclaimer: I feel as though we've been through this before, but I do not own Avatar.
A/N: Yesterday my world was destroyed. Avatar: The Last Airbender should never have been made into a movie. Was I disappointed? That's putting it lightly. Yet the cartoon still holds a special place in my heart. Moving on...here is chapter four, short again with a bit of a cliff hanger. The Gaang will arrive in the sixth chapter, ah so soon. Reviews, you should already know, are appreciated, but I won't beg. Read and enjoy. Signed with much love from your humble author, Waiting for Godot.
Four
"It's when the sun shines the brightest
that our shadows appear the biggest."
-Robin Sharma
One day blended into the next. Perhaps it had been months since she'd fled from Azula or more likely less than a week. At first she'd counted the seconds, minutes, and hours, hoping the steady rhythm of time would keep her from succumbing to the insanity that circled above her like the buzzard-wasps, waiting in the corner of her eye for the right moment. But 66, 474 seconds into the desert, Isa had lost count. She had washed her hands entirely of the progression of time. It didn't pertain to her in this perpetual place; where there were no landmarks to guide her. If it wasn't for the blisters riddling the soles of her feet, Isa wouldn't have known she was still moving. Nothing ever changed. Step after step the scenery remained stubbornly consistent.
She raised Ty Lee's canteen to her cracked lips, the effort left her breathless, and prayed for one last drop of moisture. Nothing. The canteen was bone dry, emptied miles ago. Then a desperate idea struck Isa. She wiped the sweat from her brow and licked it greedily from her fingertips. The taste was terrible, but for a quick moment, gone to soon, her dry tongue felt a bit less like cotton. Isa absently licked from her wrist to the crook of her elbow, while cringing at how far she'd fallen.
Freedom. No one had told her how difficult it would be. She'd had plenty of time to regret her decisions. If she'd only bitten her tongue and acted like the good soldier, she would be on her way to the capital where a cool bath and steaming meal would be waiting. Isa's nose almost burned from the spices in her favorite dish as she imagined it. It certainly would taste a thousand times better than her own sweat, which was unfortunately not in short supply.
Despite these regrets, Isa continued moving. When the temptation to forfeit sunk its claws into her, she thought of one thing only. Survival. It was all that mattered now. Everything else, from where she planned on going to who she was becoming, came in second. Not only did she have to fight against the heat and the desert; Isa was locked in a brutal battle with her own body. With each step the pain grew. Hunger cramps tied her stomach in knots, the wound in her side, Azula's brand as she liked to think of it, continued to trickle blood and a beige liquid she couldn't identify, even if she'd wanted to. Thought she was able to walk, the chains around her ankles were heavy, and the metal collar had scraped much of the skin from around her neck.
Isa could have coped with the physical discomforts alone, but the loss of her bending was a constant irritation. Adrift in an ocean of vast sand, she felt microscopic, and her vulnerability was increased tenfold by the inability to bend fire. So much had happened in such a short amount of time and Isa had yet to manage a good grasp on any of it. She was confused. And then she was confused by her confusion, an emotion that hadn't affected her in so long. Without her bending, Isa was not whole. Azula hadn't just taken her means of defense; she'd stolen part of her soul. It was as though one of her lungs had been carved out and now Isa was struggling to breathe with only one. Though her vision was limited to escaping the desert, there was one thing she knew she'd have to do if she survived. Find a way to get rid of the damned collar.
Apart from the clink of chains, the constant drone of buzzard-wasps overhead, and the hitch of her breath, Isa had heard little else in the past few days. So when a new sound rose in the desert's orchestra, her ears prickled. She stopped, curious about the noise. It was like thunder rumbling in the distance. Isa tilted her head back to look at the empty sky, white-washed by the bright sun, and soon realized she wasn't the only one disconcerted by the strange sound. The buzzard-wasps that had trailed her from the beginning of her journey were dispersing. Isa shielded her eyes as the powerful thrust of their wings stirred the sand around her into miniature cyclones.
The thunder was rapidly drawing closer. Like the buzzard-wasps, Isa's instincts were urging her to flee, but something kept her rooted to the spot, watching the horizon. As the rumble grew louder she couldn't shake the feeling that she'd heard it before.
It wasn't long before her suspicions were confirmed. Still miles away, Isa recognized the dark shape scaring the unblemished sky, a war-balloon, and she didn't need to see the Fire Nation symbol stamped across its side to know who the balloon belonged to. Azula was coming. Isa had no intentions of being captured this time. She ran, the roar of the war-balloon drowning out all other thoughts.
Isa clambered to the top of a sand dune, clawing at the loose sand with her hands, and tumbled headlong down the other side. Spitting grit from her mouth, she leapt to her feet and continued sprinting. There was nowhere to hide, nowhere to go, and the chances of outrunning a war-balloon, even had she been in the best of physical condition, were slim. The chains around her ankles tangled and tripped her. Within seconds she could hardly breathe. Together the roar of the war-balloon and the thunderous pound of her heart made for a dangerous harmony.
Isa didn't know how much longer she could force herself to move, and then the answer came. Glancing over her shoulder to mark the war-balloon's progress, she didn't see the squat cactus patch in her path until too late. Hissing in pain, she stumbled right into it. Sharp, thin needles sunk into her bare, blistered feet, and she fell, projecting her body away from the cactus patch.
The war-balloon was gaining on her, but for the moment Isa was sheltered in between two dunes. When she tried to stand, the cactus needles dug further into the sensitive soles of her feet. Certainly she couldn't walk until she removed them, but there wasn't time. She could crawl, but not fast enough. Isa scanned the ground around her in desperation. She hadn't come so far to be taken prisoner again.
Nearby a scorpion poked its head above the sand, before quickly sinking out of sight again. Isa had an idea. Perhaps there was a place to hide after all. Without losing any time or acknowledging the flaws in her plan, Isa began to dig. She scooped handfuls of sand aside in a frenzy, creating a shallow hole. Once it was just deep and wide enough, Isa slid in and hurriedly covered herself from the feet up. Taking a last, deep tug of brittle air, she brushed a pile of sand over her face and then pushed her arms under as well. There was no way to know if she was completely covered. Isa could only hope and hold her breath. She was buried alive, but she felt half dead.
Azula peered into the dip between the two sand dunes, her brows furrowed in consternation. Nothing on this mission had gone as planned. She should have returned to the palace by now and received the praise she so deserved for a job well done. It had been ridiculously easy to eliminate the rebels. She'd smoked them out of their goo-infested tunnels in the Si Wong rock and apart from those nasty buzzard-wasps there had been no surprises, not until she'd returned to camp to find the traitor had escaped. Ty Lee, of course, had been promptly dealt with. Azula did not accept weakness. Though she suspected Ty Lee's dishonesty, there was no proof, and the silly woman's story hadn't changed under the pressure of torture.
For three days they had scoured the desert. The chase was becoming wearisome. They hadn't found the slightest footprint to suggest Isa's course. Just when Azula had been prepared to issue the order to fly home, she'd caught sight of something flashing in the sunlight, a metal canteen. Now holding it in her hands, she traced the Fire Nation symbol on the leather strap and smirked.
"Ty Lee," Azula barked.
"Yes?" Ty Lee stepped forward, still limping slightly from her punishment. It would be awhile before she could cartwheel again. She paled as Azula held the canteen up.
"What is this?" the Princess asked calmly.
"Looks like a canteen," Mai replied, twirling a lose thread on her robes disinterestedly.
"Did I ask you?" Azula snapped. Mai's hands fell limp at her sides. She lowered her eyes. The princess had always been unstable, but as of late she had become a ticking time bomb. Though she would never admit it, Isa's betrayal had been a hard blow. She couldn't recall the last time someone had told her no, the last time she had been disobeyed. Who did Isa think she was? That orphan from the Earth colonies, who wouldn't have amounted to anything, had Azula not taken her in. She would have been just another dispensable assassin. Azula had given the girl honor and Isa had thrown it all away for a handful of desert peasants. The shock of her treachery, however, was overshadowed by the damage she had done to Azula's pride. Shaking the canteen before Ty Lee's face, the Princess was fueled by cold rage.
"Doesn't this look familiar?" Azula asked, quietly like a hunter approaching its prey. Ty Lee stared hard at her feet as she answered, afraid to meet the Princess' penetrating gaze.
"It's my canteen. Isa stole it when she escaped."
"Of course she did," Azula hissed, shoving the canteen into Ty Lee's chest forcefully. Without another word to her subordinates, she slid down the sand dune to the indent at the bottom. Ty Lee and Mai exchanged wary glances before following, as they always did.
"She can't be far," Azula muttered, scanning the wind-churned sand for any unnatural deformities.
Mai was moving to the small patch of shade afforded by the dunes, when she stumbled, falling face-first into the sand. With her ear pressed to the ground, she heard a soft groan, and her pulse quickened. Mai sat up and found the source of her sudden clumsiness. She'd tripped on a foot, a human foot, poking out of the sand. Once the initial shock settled, she noticed the metal shackle strapped around the disembodied ankle. Isa! There was no doubt in Mai's mind that the foot belonged to Isa. And the groan…the groan surely meant she was alive. As if to confirm this assumption, Isa's toes wriggled. The subtle movement almost escaped Mai's notice.
"What are you doing down there?" Mai startled at the sound of Azula's voice. She glanced up, masking her momentary surprise with practiced ease, to see the Princess striding towards her. Any closer and she would see Isa's foot sticking from the ground. Mai had never particularly cared for Isa. She rarely cared for anyone, but if it was a choice between the girl and Azula, Mai wasted no time in choosing the girl. I'm not always your puppet, she thought bitterly, before sliding backwards casually, so that she was sitting atop the uncovered foot.
"I stumbled," Mai lied, her tone customarily flat. Azula scowled, but asked no further questions. She let her gaze wander between the two dunes once more. There was nothing, just as there had been nothing for days. While the Princess' back was turned, Mai stood and hurriedly kicked a mound of sand over Isa's exposed foot. By the time Azula faced them again there was no trace of the buried girl.
"She isn't here," Ty Lee stated, concealing the note of relief in her words. Azula seemed surprisingly unconcerned.
"She's out of water," Azula said, smirking. "And she can't firebend. If the buzzard-wasps don't kill her first, she'll starve to death. It's time we return home. My father is waiting."
"And Isa? You don't wish to find her?" Ty Lee asked hesitantly. Azula's razor thin grin widened as she stared across the barren plain of sand.
"Why waste my time any further when the desert is just as capable of dealing with her? She can rot here for all I care." Azula began the difficult climb up the sand dune, Ty Lee and Mai close on her heels. Little did the Princess know she had literally been standing on top of her prey moments ago.
Azula's war-balloon rose once more and disappeared into the cloudless sky. Still Isa did not resurface. Unable to breathe in her tomb of sand, she had fallen unconscious.